


The Hart of the Wolf

by MotherLilith



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Awkward Cullen Rutherford, Blood Magic (Dragon Age), Class Issues, Discrimination, Drinking, Elf Culture & Customs, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, Gossip, Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus Friendship, Lavellan/Solas Angst (Dragon Age), Mage Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Oral Sex, POV Cullen Rutherford, POV Inquisitor (Dragon Age), POV Solas (Dragon Age), Past Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Past Relationship(s), Plot, Politics, Post-Canon, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Secret Relationship, Sexism, Solas is Fen'Harel (Dragon Age), Tevinter Culture and Customs, Tevinter Imperium (Dragon Age), Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherLilith/pseuds/MotherLilith
Summary: The Inquisition turns to Tevinter for support in their fight against Fen'harel, but for Inquisitor Lavellan the political is all too personal as she deals with her complicated feelings for Solas, and everything that she's lost...
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Fen'Harel/Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Male Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Greetings Inquisitor, 

In your last letter you specifically requested that I report anything strange concerning the Kirkwall elves, especially those in the alienage. Well, that’s the thing Inquisitor: they’re all gone. No one seems to know where, but it doesn’t take a genius to work out _who_ they’ve gone to join. By the time we’d returned from Orlais, the alienage was empty, and a considerable number of nobles were missing their servants. Obviously, the gentry are all pretty pissed. I would have written sooner, but I’ve spent the last few days trying to stop the city from falling into utter chaos. I won’t say anymore, after everything that happened at the Winter Palace it seems tactless of me to write to you about my problems. Bianca says hi by the way. Bianca Bianca. Not my crossbow. You know who I mean.

Regards,

Varric Tethras (Vis. of Kirkwall).

Shani read the letter several times, the words ‘they’re all gone _’_ echoing through her mind. She’d received similar reports from agents throughout Thedas, but seeing it stated so plain in Varric’s hand shook her. More and more elves were disappearing, leaving to join… _him_ for what they thought would be a better life, but would ultimately result in the destruction of Thedas.

Leliana’s agents indicated that most of the elves didn’t know who he truly was, that they thought he was just a powerful apostate who had taken on the moniker ‘Fen’Harel’ to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies. In a way, they were right _,_ she thought. But the agents also reported that there were some among them that worshipped him as a god. It was those that most concerned Shani and the rest of her advisors. As Leliana said, “If your god stands before you and tells you to do something, you’ll do it without question, even if what they require is your life”. That kind of fanatical loyalty was the most dangerous of all.

For several months, Dorian had played host to the inquisition. Not at the grand Pavus estate in Qarinus, but at his town house in Minrathous. Although, Shani thought, ‘town house’ was a vast understatement. The ancient palatial building was monstrous in proportion and carved mostly from black obsidian. Dorian had grudgingly allowed the ornamental pleasure garden to become a training ground for the soldiers. He’d even refrained from wincing when he’d seen the muddy footprints coating the marble hallway. The ballroom had become a dormitory for the soldiers. Most of them had grown up beneath thatched roofs, but now they slept under the disapproving gaze of Dorian’s ancestors glaring down from their gilt frames. Shani’s own chambers were somewhat grander. They consisted of a large bedroom, a dressing room, a bathroom with a private bath set in the marble floor, as well as a balcony and a solar with a small library of magical tomes.

She was standing now on the balcony which looked out onto the Nocean sea. The fresh salt wind was marred only slightly by the sounds and smells of the city below. There were great warships in the bay patrolling the coastline and merchant ships from Antiva carrying silk, spices and cloth of gold. There were also smaller ships and fishing vessels dotting the harbour, but from this height they looked like toy boats bobbing on a pond.

There was a soft knock at the door.

“Come in”, Shani said, turning away from the view. Two of Dorian’s servants entered the room and bowed to her. Servants, not slaves, unlike the households of other Tevinter Magisters. Dorian had actively fought against the practice of slavery alongside other members of the Lucerni since he’d returned from the south.

Both attendants were Tevinter-born human women, and on first glance appeared the complete opposites of one another. One was greying and stooped and the other was young and plain, but on closer look Shani noticed that they both flinched whenever she made a sudden movement, as if they expected a beating. Either they feared her reputation as The Inquisitor, vanquisher of Corypheus, or their previous mistress had been particularly harsh. She did wish to cause them more anxiety by inquiring further.

They filled her bath with hot water and poured in scented oils. Shani allowed the girl to carefully undress her, unlacing the fine silk tunic she was wearing, and pulling it over her head. She stepped down into the bath herself, refusing to let them help her do so. She had to draw the line somewhere. Although she’d been the leader of the Inquisition for several years now, she wasn’t used to such attentiveness from servants and found it distasteful.

Being Dalish, she’d grown up moving from place to place, never settling long enough to be persecuted by the humans that lived in the nearby towns and villages. From an early age she was expected to pull her own weight and work for the good of the clan. She was used to communal living. You had to be, living like that. There was no such thing as ‘personal space’ in a Dalish aravel. Bath time growing up had consisted of being been packed into a tub with numerous other children and bathed with river water heated over a campfire. The servant girl’s attention wasn’t intrusive, but it was one thing having a family member or a friend wash your back, and another thing paying someone to do it for you.

But this was Minrathous and this was the way that things were done, and she’d keep telling herself that for as long as it took for her to adjust.

The girl scrubbed her until she was clean while the old woman washed her long, silvery-blonde hair. She deftly combed the snags out without a word, and without once pulling her hair. Shani wondered how long she had it had taken for her to perfect her technique. A lifetime of combing the Mistresses’ hair. But there were far worse fates in Tevinter.

When she was clean, they brought towels to dry her, but Shani insisted that she do it herself and waved the women away. When she was done, she seated herself at the dressing table and the woman dabbed her with a perfume made from black lotus flowers. The girl brushed her hair until it shone and proceeded to plait and adorn it with blue sapphire pins and a comb of inlaid ivory. Shani noted how the girl strategically weaved and ornamented her hair to hide her pointed ears.

Most elves were slaves in Minrathous and those that weren’t were confined to the alienage in the elven quarter. Even those who had some magical ability rarely rose above the Laetan class because they didn’t receive magical training. They were overlooked in favour of humans who were thought to be much more naturally intelligent, and therefore better able to learn complex magic. Not to mention that the oldest and most powerful of the families in Minrathous were human, supposedly descended from the Magisters that broke into the golden city. However, following the defeat of Corypheus at the hands of the Inquisition, that claim seemed to have gone out of fashion. In most circles at least.

When they were finished, Shani picked up the silverite forearm engraved with magical runes that lay waiting on the table. She placed it at her elbow, and upon contact with her warm skin the cold metal melded to her flesh in of shiver of magic. The women then dressed her first in a white silk shift, and then in a midnight blue silk gown embroidered at the hem and sleeves with silver. A metal corselet was fasten around her waist, and a necklace bejewelled with a string of stars motif was looped around her neck.

She stood before the mirror and saw the jewelled, berobbed stranger that stood in place of her own reflection. She was no longer Shani. She had been transformed once more into the figurehead, the idol, the vessel that was the Inquisitor. Someday, I will see myself in that mirror, she thought. She shuddered and looked away.

She slipped on a pair of grey velvet slippers just as Dorian entered the chamber.

“Well, don’t you look lovely”, he said with a smile, “I’m sure the Magisters will approve”.

Shani grimaced. “I’m not sure they’ll ever approve of a one-armed Dalish elf, no matter how nicely I dress”.

Dorian shrugged “This isn’t the Winter Palace Inquisitor, in Minrathous they appreciate both magic and power and you have plenty of both, to say nothing of beauty”.

“Flatterer”, she replied.

“Always”

“Well, we’ll see how we’re received at the banquet”.

“Speaking of the banquet, we had best leave before we become _unfashionably_ late”.

*

Dorian and the Inquisitor met Josephine at the foot of the wide staircase. Instead of her usual yellow and purple attire she wore a black satin gown which left her shoulders bare.

“You look nice Josephine”, Shani said.

Josephine smiled. “Thank you, Inquisitor, I thought this outfit would prove less confrontational than southern military dress.”

“Indeed, I quite agree” Dorian said. “The Magisters are well aware of who you are and why you are here, such a reminder would certainly be taken as an insult”. In your case Inquisitor, they’ll notice that you’ve made an effort to…I suppose the word is _assimilate_ ”.

“Even though I can’t pass as human, it’s nice to show that I’m _trying_ ”, Shani said sarcastically.

“Quite”, Dorian replied, slightly embarrassed.

At that moment Cullen arrived, dressed in his blazing red military uniform.

“I’m not late, am I?”, he asked worriedly.

“Not late” Dorian said, casting an eye over the commander. “It’s just that you seem to have inadvertently spoiled our strategy of dress”.

“Strategy of dress? What are you talking about Dorian?”.

Shani laughed, “It doesn’t matter, you’re the leader of the Inquisition’s forces. It makes sense for you to be in uniform.”

“Even if I stick out like a sore thumb?”, Cullen said with a grin.

“Well, you’re not going to blend in with all the fat old Magisters, considering how dashing you look”.

Cullen blushed, not meeting her eye.

“I do hope you’re not counting me among them Inquisitor”, said Dorian.

“I just hope they won’t be as much of a bother as the people at the Winter Palace”, Cullen said.

“That’s right! You did have _quite_ the following at that ball commander.” Josephine said, smirking slightly.

Cullen shuddered.

“Where’s Leliana?” Shani asked,

“I believe she’s in the carriage waiting for us. We’d best join her if we don’t wish to be late”, Josephine replied.

As they walked out into the street flanked by Inquisiton guards, dusk had fallen and the red disc of the sun had sunk bloody beneath the horizon. Though they could still see by its waning light, the golden lamps of that lined the paved streets of the Gilded Quarter had already begun to light themselves.

Shani had seen the lower city only briefly when the Inquisition first arrived in Minrathous. Those streets had been filthy, and in great need of repair. Merchants, fishermen, sailors, and children alike all stopped to stare at the procession as they marched through the city. And above them all the black towers of the Magisterium loomed like a curse.

“There I saw the Black City, towers all stain’d- Andraste 1:11”, Leliana murmured to herself.

It was a good show of Inquisition strength, Cullen said. This was the best strategy to demonstrate to the Magisters that the Inquisition meant business. But their reception was far from welcoming. This was certainly not the south, Shani though as she looked out at the sea of faces that showed ambivalence at best and open hostility at worst. None clapped or cheered. Most were silent or muttered under their breath in Teveen. A few even jeered mocking insults at the soldiers and spat. Shani rode at the head of the Inquisition wearing the armour of a supreme mage, but when those eyes looked at her they saw only a foreigner who looked like a slave.

Although Leliana was constantly reminding her that many people wanted her dead, right then Shani felt that she had underestimated her spymaster’s warnings.

Sera had ridden next to her in the procession and Shani knew that they were both thinking the same thing when they passed the slave market in the main square. Slaves of all colours and sizes lined the up for inspection, all with empty eyes and despair carved into their faces. There were humans, and even some Qunari. But mostly elves, mostly children. Prospective buyers trailed their fingers over them, pinching their arms and legs to check for weakness.

“Train them up good and proper”, Sera said with steel in her eyes. Shani had seen her fingers itching to knotch an arrow. Sera’s righteous anger burned with the knowledge that it could be her in chains, that it as good as was. She’d never admit to being elfy, but Shani knew that she was when it counted. That could be us, and yet still we turn away, we march on. she thought. All we do is march, while Solas tries to set them free.

They passed brothels, markets, smoke dens, beggars and whores. Shani had always hated cities. She hated the dirt and the squalor, and how too many people were squashed into cramped spaces. She hated that the sky was hemmed in by rooftops and the earth closed off by cobblestones. How smog choked the air and water ran polluted and that there wasn’t a tree for miles around. Above all, she hated the rich men who ruled in luxury and didn’t give a damn about her people.

And now she was stepping up into a carriage and being whisked off to have dinner with them, and there was no way around it. The Inquisition needed their support in their campaign Solas. But she didn’t want to think about him either. There was too much to feel. So, she wouldn’t. She had to keep going, keep moving forward.

She stepped up into the carriage with a hand from the chauffeur. The door opened to reveal Leliana, also wearing a black Tevinter gown. Her green eyes reflected the lamplight like a cat. There was ample room for the five of them inside and Dorian immediately lounged across the plush seats, as was the custom. Shani perched on the edge, tapping her flimsy slippers nervously against the floor.

“Try to relax Inquisitor, we’re not going into battle”, said Cullen, placing a hand on her arm reassuringly.

“That’s precisely what we _are_ doing commander”, Leliana replied. “Entering the fray and engaging with the enemy in a complex game of back and forth, attack, feint, counterattack. As for whether there will be bloodshed, that is another matter entirely”.

“It sounds like you’ve missed this”, Shani said.

“Well, maybe just a little. It’s different playing the game from a distance. After a while you start longing to play it up close and personal”.

Josephine sighed. “You should try having my job, some days it’s _only_ up close and personal”.

“But you wouldn’t trade it for the world”, Dorian smirked.

“Oh, never!”.

“I’m not going to be able to relax until we’re back at the house”, Shani said. “So, tell me again about the Magister who’s hosting us this evening”.

“His name is Garcinius Terras and he’s expressed sympathy for our cause.” said Josephine, “He’s particularly concerned about the prospect of a second breach in the sky”.

“However, he doesn’t fully understand the danger that we are facing. Like the rest of Tevinter, he doesn’t believe that Fen’Harel is really an Elvhen god. Nor does he believe he is capable of destroying the veil”, Leliana said grimly.

“Elvhen god. I still feel like we have no idea what that really means.”, said Dorian. “Corypheus claimed to be a god but he was just an ancient magister corrupted into a darkspawn. Solas claims he’s a god…”

“No, he doesn’t”, Shani interrupted him. “He never claimed that. He only said that people called the Evanuris that because of their power. But that doesn’t help us. We still don’t know what he’s capable of, our more importantly what the limits of his magic are”.

“Well, we have people working on that as you know”, said Leliana. “They’re watching closely”.

“We’re becoming distracted”, said Josephine in a slightly irritated tone. “We need to be concentrating on making sure that this evening is a success. We are not going to the party to convince the Magisters that Solas is a god. It doesn’t matter what they believe as long as they see that supporting us is in their own self-interest”.

“Something along the lines of; “You need to help us stop a crazy, powerful elf supremacist who wants to open another hole in the sky?’”, Dorian asked ironically.

“Perhaps phrased more delicately. But yes, something along those lines.”

*

Magister Garcinius Terras rarely set foot outside the gilded quarter, except when he visited his country estate. For him, all floors marble, all stairs were mahogany polished until it shone, and all furniture was made centuries ago by the master craftsmen of the Old Imperium. And yet, his slaves kept his household so clean that it was said that not even a speck of dust could be found. Most of the rooms in his house could accommodate at least a hundred people and were always scented with incense and fresh flowers.

But for the magister, like all respectable mages of the Altus class, it was not his vast wealth nor his estate, nor even his position in the Magisterium that he prized above all else. No, that honour went to the legacy of magical blood that flowed in his veins, and had trickled down into the veins of his daughter Arianna Terras. His only child. He sighed as he watched her sitting alone at the window reading a book. She was pleasant enough to look at, with her dark hair combed into a neat braid and her new green dress. But he was disappointed to see that, amongst the glittering sea of Altus women, she faded into the background.

He saw his wife Lucretia making her way over to their daughter. As he watched them, he knew that his wife was telling Arianna to put down her book and go entertain the guests. He knew that Lucretia would also tell her to at least make an effort to talk to the suitors she’d invited. It had taken her rather a long time to find new prospects, after all and she should be grateful to her. She had spent enough time away from society as it was.

Indeed, his wife had allowed their daughter license to recover from the illness she’d suffered these past few weeks, but no longer. Quite right too, she was almost twenty-five. Well past a respectable age to be married. Though, he conceded, it was hardly the girl’s fault. She’d been to stupid to realise the influence that rogue had over her, and by then it was too late.

He took a glass of wine that was offered him by a slave carrying a silver tray and sipped it thoughtfully. At least she was paying attention to her studies now, he mused. Until recently her magical abilities had been a disappointment to say the least. Now, however, she was turning into quite the mage. Perhaps it was those Lucerni upstarts she’d been running about with. Those youngsters were rabble rousers, true, but she seemed to be learning a thing or two about magic. But his wife was right, she’d gone unmarried long enough and she was getting too political for her own good. If she found a husband her politics would surely mellow, whilst her new-found abilities would remain.

Now he’d been thinking of the Lucerni, he remembered that their leader, Dorian Pavus, would be in attendance this evening with the Inquisitor. He was unmarried, the magister recalled, but hardly a desirable match for his daughter, if the rumours were true. No prospect of an heir, and whatsmore he was a radical reformist who was damaging his daughter’s already tarnished reputation by associating with her.

“Magister Terras?”

He turned around at the sound of his name.

It was Antonius Kastor. Magister Kastor now, he remined himself gritting his teeth. The elf had recently been made a Magister by Archon Radonis for maker knew what reason. Some said that it was because he had powerful friends. Evidently, he did because how else could a knife-eared Liberati gain a seat in the Magisterium? It galled him that the man’s status was now such that he couldn’t avoid inviting him to his little get- togethers without being accused of _discourtesy_ by his peers! The nerve of the man, coming into the very house upon which he’d brought dishonour and shame.

Magister Terras plastered a gracious smile across his face.

“Magister Kastor! I hope that you are enjoying my little soiree this evening?”

“Thank you for asking Magister, you are a most gracious host”, replied Kastor. A newly wrought Magister’s chain hung around his neck. When he spoke, his manners and accent were so precisely refined that he gave the impression of condescension.

“Your hospitality has been excellent, I was merely wondering whether the rumours I had heard circulating among your other guests were true?”

“Rumours, Magister?”

“That the Inquisition would be attending this evening?”

“Quite so, however they seem to be running a little late”.

At that moment a herald entered the hall and announced, “The House of Terras presents: Lady Inquisitor Shaneira Lavellan, Mage Enchanter of the Dalish, Peacekeeper of Fereldan and Orlais, Vanquisher of Corypheus and Healer of the Breach!”

A slight woman in an elegant blue gown entered with a confidence that betrayed her authority. Her silverite arm glinted in the light of the chandeliers.

“Accompanying the Inquisitor: Magister Dorian Pavus of Qarinus, previously of the Circle of Vyrantium.”

Ah, there was Pavus with his little moustache and arrogant swagger, he thought.

“Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet of Antiva City, Ambassador of the Inquisition. Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath, Commander of the Forces of the Inquisition. Lady Leliana, Seneshal of the Inquisition and confidante of Divine Victoria…”

Shani looked around at the crowd of nobles, mages and Magisters dressed in elaborate finery that boasted of their wealth and status. Although Josephine had briefed her on who would be attending, she seemed to have forgotten half of the names she had learnt. Dorian nudged her arm at that moment and gestured to a large man with greying hair over fifty years of age walking over to them. He wore a black silk tunic fringed with gold, with many necklaces and armbands that dug into his flesh.

“Welcome, My Lady Inquisitor”, he said, bowing low and placing a moist kiss upon her right hand. I am your host, Magister Garcinius Terras and I am most honoured to make your acquaintance at last. And Magister Pavus, you are most welcome in my home”.

Dorian bowed in the Tevinter style and Shani smiled politely and curtseyed.

“You honour us Lord Magister, throughout Tevinter i have heard much of your family’s prestigious reputation”, she said.

“Much exaggerated, I can assure you”, replied the Magister. “Unlike the extraordinary tales I have heard of the Inquisitions exploits in southern Thedas, which I must say have at times appeared almost miraculous”.

“Magister, how can I even begin to address such a statement?” she said. “Many tales are told about the Inquisition, many of which have been called miraculous, but I myself would never make such a claim. Not when I have seen the sacrifices made by our soldiers, many of whom have given their lives for our cause.”

Terras smiled indulgently, “It is precisely the loyalty that you inspire that has been called miraculous, Inquisitor. Such loyalty that I may myself feel obliged to help your cause. I hope that in time may come to think of me as an ally”.

“That is also my hope, Magister”.

These games of power are always the same, she thought. Only the costumes change. Hopefully, he’d prove useful and they’d soon find others who would be aid their cause. That was all that mattered.

Josephine joined them at that moment, accompanied by a handsome woman dressed in a black gown that seemed to pull light from her surroundings. She was with a silver haired man wearing a black velvet doublet emblazoned with slashes of red. He wore a gold chain around his neck with a ruby that seemed to pulsate with magic.

“Please allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Lucretia Terras of the Minrathous Circle of Magi, and Magister Antonius Kastor”, said Garcinius Terras.

He’s an elf, Shani thought. He looks as strange dressed up in finery as I do, and yet he looks almost comfortable. Despite these two practically sneering at him.

“Magister Kastor and Lady Terras, it is a pleasure to meet you”, she said.

The lady smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Charmed, I’m sure”, she said. Kastor took the Inquisitor’s hand and kissed it politely.

“The pleasure is all mine”, he said, his cold grey eyes meeting her gaze unflinchingly.

“Oh, and this is my daughter, Lady Arianna.” Garcinius said, gesturing to a pale girl in a green dress who had walked over to them.

“My Lady.” She said, curtsying awkwardly. Shani noticed that Kastor’s face remained blank in the face of girl’s flustered appearance. That look must serve him well, she thought.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Arianna”.

“And you, Inquisitor. I have heard much about you from Dorian”.

“Arianna!” Dorian exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you, it has been a while hasn’t it? We must have a catch up later, yes?”

She smiled enthusiastically, “Certainly, we must! You must tell me everything that I’ve missed these last few weeks”.

Garcinius waved a hand dismissively at his daughter. “My daughter has been unwell, but no matter. If you’ll care to follow me Inquisitor, we’ll make our way to the banquet hall.”

Shani inclined her head, and they followed where the Magister led.

*

The food at the banquet table was exquisite, the finest Minrathous had to offer. And everyone knew that the capital had the most sophisticated, refined taste in all of Thedas. Or at least, that was what Dorian said. It was clear to Shani from the decadence of the food that neither the Blight nor the wars in the south had reached the borders of Tevinter. While singers sang and slaves danced for their entertainment, the nobles gorged themselves on milk-sopped pork roasted with honey and fiery peppers. As those around her drank themselves blind on the Magister’s rich wines and exchanged barbed comments across the table in Teveen, the unfamiliar language rang rapid and harsh in Shani’s ears. Not that she understood much of what was said. She could only decipher a few words at a time when Dorian spoke slowly and deliberately to her in his native tongue. Shani wasn’t a very good student, at least when it came to languages. That’s why she had Josephine.

The food placed in front of her was fine indeed (shrimp and crab fried in hot spices and served in a rich, creamy soup) but it was served by elven slaves with collars about their necks and downcast eyes. The sight it made her feel sick, but she forced herself to try a spoonful of soup for the sake of diplomacy.

Lady Terras was watching her discomfort with a critical eye.

“Our food is not to your liking Lady Inquisitor?”, she inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“It is exquisite my lady, the quality of the food to which I am accustomed is poor in comparison”.

“Well, now that you are in Minrathous you will see that our food is certainly better than the ‘poor’ conditions of your Inquisition.” she said haughtily.

Shani clenched her jaw and smiled back in return.

“Ignore her” Josephine whispered. “It is essential that you are seen to act courteously, otherwise all doors in Tevinter will be closed to you.

“You should try eating some of these.” Dorian said, reaching over and handing her a plate of tiny fish rolls fried in spices, “They’re less rich than the soup”.

“Thank you”, Shani said with a grimace.

“You’re doing well, Inquisitor”.

“At least I remember the Teveen dining etiquette you taught me, otherwise I think I’d be agonising over which spoon to use”.

Four pyromancers arrived at the table and began conjuring beasts of flame to fight for the guests. The beasts tore at one another with claws of fire while many of the younger men cheered them on and placed bets. As Shani sipped her wine, the slaves began placing dishes of quail and honey, hearts wrapped in bacon and smothered in a red wine sauce, and goose livers stuffed with butter and herbs on the table. As she ate, she could feel the eyes of Antonius Kastor on her, but every time she looked over to him, he appeared to be deep in conversation with his neighbour.

“Tell me about that man, Josephine.” Shani said.

“Antonius Kastor”, she recited, dipping into her ambassadorial memory. “He’s recently been made a Magister and he has a great deal of influence with House Radonis, as well as House Arida and House Tarlix to name a few” she said. “However, his feelings towards the Inquisition appear…ambivalent at best. At worst, Leliana has reported rumours that he may have been involved with the Venatori, although the same could be said of many here tonight.”

“He must be an ambitious man to have become a Magister. I think we’re the only two elves here who aren’t slaves.”

“He’ll work that angle to gain favour with us”. Dorian said. “From what I know of him, I’d say he’s a social climber who sides with whoever holds the most power. He’s changed alliances more than a few times. Also, he used to be involved with Arianna and she’s told me some rather...unsavoury things about him.”

“That’s surprising. She doesn’t seem like the type”.

“Type?”

“Rebellious, I mean”.

“You might be surprised Inquisitor”.

“So, you think I shouldn’t trust Kastor then?”

“In short, no”, said Josephine. “But if he can be convinced that the threat to Thedas will also affect him, he could be relied on to act in his own self-interest.”

As they spoke, crabs boiled in Antivan spices, swans stuffed with dates swimming in a sauce of saffron and peaches, and tureens full of venison stewed in honey were being devoured by those around them.

When a joint of boar was placed in front of Shani, Magister Terras said. “Allow me the pleasure my lady”, and before she could reply began cutting it into small pieces for her. When he had finished, he pushed it back towards her with an indulgent smile.

Shani was taken aback by this condescension, but quickly responded by saying, “Thank you Magister, you are a most considerate host”.

“You know, you remind me of my daughter”, he slurred, reaching for another roast capon.

Shani looked over to where Arianna Terras was sitting. A drunk noble from Qarinus was leaning over her and trying to whisper something in her ear, but in doing so sloshed his goblet of wine over her dress. She stood up abruptly and looked as if she was about to slap him, but after a moment’s hesitation she stalked angrily out of the room.

Her father appeared to have noticed because he added, “She doesn’t do well at banquets, they bring on an attack of the nerves”.

“I thought she was a charming young lady”, she responded tactfully.

Garcinius nodded absentmindedly, turning his attention back to the capon.

Josephine frowned slightly. “It is _most_ improper for a young lady of her station, to leave such a banquet as this”, she whispered to the inquisitor. “There are many eligible suitors here tonight”.

“But the man she was seated next to spilt wine all over her!”

“Yes, and he is a very eligible mage of a high status, Inquisitor. A young woman like her should be here learning to play the game. Her outburst discredits her father’s reputation”.

“I understand, but I can’t help feeling sorry for her. The game doesn’t come naturally to me either. I just wish that we could do politics without all _this_ ” she said, gesturing at the red faces of the guests and the desert platters being piled onto the table.

“Tonight is about being seen, Inquisitor. If all goes well, we’ll make be able to forge alliances in due course”.

Trays of pastries filled with heavy cream and syrup, chocolate swans and spun-sugar mermaids, orange cakes spiced with cinnamon were soon layed out before them. Shani was toying with a pastry, willing the meal to be over when Garcinius Terras lurched to his feet, a glass of wine in one hand.

“Magisters, Mages, esteemed guests. It is my great honour and privileged to welcome the Inquisition to Minrathous!” There was a round of applause, which he hastily waved down. “I would like tonight for you to raise a glass to the Inquisitor, Lady Lavellan. It is rare that one such as she can rise so high in the world’s estimations. She has even been called Herald of Andraste by those in South!” There was another round of applause, and some hastily concealed tittering. He raised his glass “To the Inquisition!” The guests echoed him, some less enthusiastically than others. Shani knew that Josephine was taking note of who those were.

“Well.” she said to Josephine as they left the table “What was all that about?”

“He was just being a good host, Inquisitor. However, I do sense that the Magister plans on supporting us.” Josephine replied. “Magister Terras has a lot of influence in Minrathous, but I fear that it will take a lot more than his support before others decide to pledge themselves to our cause. They aren’t sure yet which way the tide will turn”.

“They have more pressing matters than us to deal with right now”.

“Which is why we must command their attention Inquisitor”.

*

As the night progressed, Shani talked with many curious nobles many of whom asked her things such as how she was finding Tevinter, what she thought of the food, the fashion, the architecture, and was she impressed by their refined customs, their evidently superior magical prowess? A thousand other things too, all equally dull.

Several interested parties even inquired as to whether she was engaged, and if not, was she courting anyone? The official answer was that she was available and currently considering various marriage proposals from Southern dignitaries. The unofficial answer was that she wouldn’t consider marrying a slave owning Magister in a million years.

Despite the interest in her personal life, the guests seemed a lot less interested when it came to talk of the Inquisition’s campaign. Many said to that the rebel knife-ear Fen’harel needed to be put a stop to, but all seemed reluctant to pledge their support to help. The Qunari invasion of Qarinus was a much more pressing matter, and everyone was talking about the siege that was currently being waged against the invaders. The Qun had taken the city by extreme force, and then barricaded themselves inside when the Tevinter army arrived at the gates. Although they were outnumbered, the Qunari were still holding the city a month later. All eyes were fixed on the horizon for the appearance of Qunari ships. If the talk was anything to go by, tensions hadn’t been this high in decades.

One of the Magisters she was currently talking to was looking bored, the other was leering at her suggestively, his gaze moving brazenly from her hips, to her breasts before lingering on the tips of her ears. To be an elf was to be an insect, something to be squashed beneath the boot heel if it misbehaved. To him, she knew that she was merely an exotic specimen to be caught, pinned down and added to his private collection.

She overheard the conversation of the women behind her.

“I heard that he was her lover”, the one in a plumed yellow headpiece quipped.

“Fen’harel? No! surely not?”, another whispered.

“They say she’s hunting him down for scorning her!”

“Well, hell hath no fury’ and all that”

“Scandalous!” exclaimed another, giggling with delight.

“Well we all know what female knife-ears are like. The bitches can’t help themselves.” said another derisively.

“No wonder the slave market’s always s full of them! They breed like rabbits”.

“And they’re too stupid to notice what’s right in front of them! One of my slaves once tried to dress me in a gown with a wine stain on it, can you imagine? I had to scream at her before she even noticed. Of course, I had her whipped just to be sure she wouldn’t do it again.”

“Imagine how perfectly frightful it would be if you had gone out in a dress with a wine stain on it!

“Oh, don’t! It doesn’t bear thinking about!”.

“It’s impossible to find good slaves these days.”

Shani could hear her heart pounding in her ears, drowning out the sound of the Magister talking to her. They too had heard what the women were saying and were smirking at her attempt to maintain composure. She felt magic crackling between her fingers and had to clench her fist to quell its itch.

“Excuse me Magisters, but might I have a word with the Lady Inquisitor?”.

It was Antonius Kastor. Without waiting for a reply, he took her by the hand, and pulled her away from them. She was surprised for a moment, before coming to her senses.

“I was in the middle of a conversation, Magister.”

“I apologise. I simply thought you’d prefer not to listen to the taunts of those vile women. You realise they were saying those things deliberately to see how you’d react?”

“I…thank you Magister Kastor. I don’t know what to say.” She was disturbed at how shaken she was.

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. This is a dangerous place for elves Inquisitor, and this is how the game is played. I’ve worked my whole life to get where I am, and they still won’t accept me as one of their own. They still call me ‘knife-ear’ behind my back.”

“How can you speak so openly?”

“How else can I get you to trust me except to be honest?”

“And why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t, not entirely. But unlike most of the idiot Magisters here, I’ve been monitoring the situation in the south. A lot of elves are disappearing. And where are they going, I wonder? Undoubtedly to join this ‘Fen’Harel’ that your Inquisition speaks of. Now, if you use that angle, elven uprising etcetera, a lot of Magister’s are likely to be sympathetic. They’re always worrying about slaves murdering them in their beds.”

Like you don’t worry about that too, Shani thought. No one hates an uppity knife-ear more than other knife-ears. Strutting around in that Magister’s chain, giving them orders. How many slaves do you own who’d love to murder you?

“So, I’m to take it you believe what we’re saying?”

“From what I understand, Fen’harel is an extremely powerful mage whose army grows by the day. Even the best of the Qunari forces couldn’t defeat him in Halamshiral, and half of the Eluvians in the South have been cut off. And you say that he was the one responsible for Corypheus ripping open the veil? Yes, Inquisitor. I believe what you’re saying, and I think that we should all be very concerned”.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. It’s been hard to get anyone in Tevinter to take the threat he poses seriously. Everyone’s too focused on the Qun right now”.

“Worrying about the prospect of invasion is their favourite diversion, you can’t expect them to give it up when there’s a siege in Qarinus.”

“I suppose not.”

He took her hand in his own. She noticed that they were cold and well-manicured. “Please, accept my offer of support. I am well connected and have many resources which I’d be willing to share with the Inquisition. I would like to think that you could ask anything of me, should you need it.”

What does this man want? She thought. An alliance evidently, but what else?

“I will discuss this with Lady Montilyet, now if you’ll excuse me I must go.”

“Thank you, my Lady.” He said, bowing deeply.

She walked out of the hall the into the garden. The cool air was like a salve to her after the stifling heat of the hall. She realised that she was breathing heavily, as if she’d just come from battle. Tired. She was so tired. She sat down on a marble bench and closed her eyes and took several long deep breaths to calm herself.

She smelt damp earth and the scent of night jasmine on the breeze. Crickets chirped in the bushes around her. She was finally along for the first time in hours, but it felt more like days. She kicked off her satin shoes in disgust and felt the wet grass beneath her bare feet.

She felt as though she was being pulled along on an unseen current that was carrying her further and further away from herself. Who was this woman who wore jewels and silk dresses and dined with slave-owning Magisters? It was necessary she knew, but that did nothing to stop her feeling guilty. It was because of Solas that she’d resorted to come to this place, to ask for their help. She resented him for that. Of all the emotions she felt towards him, that was one of the strongest.

It was tied up with the death of her clan and her stolen Vallaslin. It felt as if in loving him, her sense of self had begun to unravel, to come apart as if it had only ever been loose and ill-fitting. He’d made her feel like there could be something greater for her, for their people, that there was no limit to the possibilities. And because of that, she’d let him use her like he’d used so many others, before he cast her out into the vast, black ocean of his unmaking.

There was a rustle of leaves, and she heard footsteps approaching. Shani opened her eyes to see Cullen’s flushed cheeks and tousled hair.

“Inquisitor? Are you alright?”

Her throat was tight, and she became aware that she was blinking back tears.

“I’m…no, not really. I just I need a moment.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave you be”.

“No, please. Stay with me?”

“Yes, of course”.

He sat down next to her.

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the chirping of crickets in the bushes. Even in a garden of magically altered orchids with ferns gleaming in the moonlight and luminous moths, they could not get rid of the crickets.

“You’re doing so well this evening. I know how hard this sort of thing can be”.

She looked into his eyes which were as blue as the sea and saw not pity but understanding. They both knew that people were not always who they pretended to be. In his dreams, he too saw people who turned into monsters. It made it hard to get close to others, to trust that they would keep their shape.

She realized that he was looking back at her without breaking her gaze. She felt how close his body was to hers, felt the breath between them. When she kissed him, it was as if she’d been drowning and had just grasped hold of a rock. He returned her kiss gently, before pulling back. He could feel how she was shaking, so he put his arms around her and held him close.

“Cullen…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that”, she said embarrassed.

“Don’t apologise. I can’t say I didn’t want you to”, he admitted.

But she couldn’t help but notice how safe she felt with his arms around her, and that was no small thing.

Later when they were returning home in the carriage, she let Cullen take her hand in his. Josephine and Dorian had fallen asleep, but Leliana missed nothing.

*

As soon as they were through the door to her chambers, his mouth was on hers. They kissed, feeling the warmth growing between them. Cullen held her gently, moving aside the string of jewels around her neck, he kissed the tender skin beneath the metal.

His warm, wet lips on her skin elicited a soft moan from Shani, which made Cullen smile. Hesitantly, he stroked along the edge of her ears with the tip of his finger. She gasped. Although the touch was light, it felt as though sparks were dancing over her skin.

“Does that feel…ok?” he asked cautiously.

“Oh, It’s more than ok.” She said breathlessly.

He kissed her neck, stroking her ears until she was moaning. She pulled him back to kiss her lips, enjoying the feel of his mouth on hers. He tasted familiar to her, although they’d never kissed before. Everything about this feels easy, she thought. Perhaps because neither of us are holding back.

“Take off my dress.” She whispered.

He turned her around, unfastening the corselet from around her waist and unbuttoned her dress. She could feel that his hands were shaking slightly. The blue material fell to the floor in a pool around her ankles, leaving her only in her creamy satin slip.

She turned to face him again, and as he kissed her, she could feel his desire for her. His hands, which had been on her waist moved down to stroke her ass. His touch was warm and gentle, but she felt how he wanted more of her and began to guide him towards the bed.

“Come here, Commander. Take off your boots”.

Looking slightly embarrassed, Cullen slipped them off and began awkwardly undoing the brass buttons of his military jacket. Beneath he was wearing a light shirt, which he easily slipped off to reveal his chest. It was well muscled from years of fighting, covered lightly in places with golden hair. There was a scattering of scars across his torso, some light and superficial, and others which had cut him deep and healed badly.

She ran her hands over him as he stood there, and he moaned as she placed kisses on him. He gasped when she kissed his nipples and took one in her mouth. It was not a sensation that he was accustomed to, but it was a welcome one even so. She moved down his chest to kiss along the muscle of his hip crease. With her hand she felt Cullen’s hardness through his trousers, and how he eagerly pressed against her touch. Shani slowly unbuttoned his trousers and took his length in her hand. She kissed it gently and ran her tongue over it, making Cullen moan, and finally took the head of the Commander’s cock in her mouth. She began to work the base of it in one hand as she took him.

“Makers Breath…” Cullen moaned. The feel of her wet mouth, of her tongue circling his head was enough to drive him mad. Cullen found that his hand was stroking her hair, and that he was trying to maintain enough restraint not to grasp it and pulling her head to him.

Shani looked at the big man who stood before her. He was moaning and trembling, he could barely stand. She pulled back, breathlessly.

Cullen pulled her up and, gently, pushed her onto the bed. He was on top of her then, kissing her neck and running his fingers over her ears. He pulled the satin slip up and over her head, revealing her small breasts. He kissed one of the nipples experimentally, and she sighed pleasantly in response. Cullen felt how soft her skin was under his hands, how she trembled as he ran them over her. He kissed down her stomach, kissing the soft, silken skin of her inner thigh.

“Cullen, please.” She moaned.

He dipped his head to her cunt, licking and sucking and tasting her. Feeling how she opened for him, how she trusted him. When he dipped his tongue inside of her, she gasped loudly at the feel and then relaxed into it. He moved to her clit, gently slipping a finger inside her and began to work her, and her mind was blank, all thoughts slipping away as pleasure flowed through her, making her arch her back, spine sparking her vertebrae electric, and she was coming, coming, and still he kept moving his fingers inside of her. She was breathless, she moved his hand away and he paused for a moment.

He pulled him to her and kissed him again. He was on top of her now, his large body enveloping hers, making her feel safe. His eyes were dark and full of his need for her. His erect cock pressed against her. She looked up at the big man above her, this human man whose touch was so gentle.

“Is this what you want?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yes, Cullen” , she whispered in his ear, “I want you inside me”.

He moaned as he eased himself into her. Maker, she was so wet, he thought.

Shani was riding on a high, and she felt his cock inside her warm, full of the feel of him, sending pleasure flowing through her. She arched her hips up to meet his, needing him to fuck her.

She felt so small beneath him, and he was worried that he might break her.

But she whispered, “Cullen, I need you. Please, fuck me.”

And he obeyed, thrusting into her and feeling the delicious sensation of the joining of their two bodies. He looked down at her, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, her head thrown back in pleasure , mouth open as she moaned.

She felt as though she was being filled with light, like a flower unfolding in the sun. Her hands were on his back, and she dug her nails in, to feel him, that he was real, that he wouldn’t disappear.

Cullen looked into her eyes. They were as green the forest in summer, and he felt himself getting lost in them. She was so beautiful like this, spread out like this, she was so beautiful.

She put her legs over his shoulders, and he pressed deeper into her. She felt him in the core of her being, and she was coming again, tightening around him as she cried out his name.

“Fuck.” Cullen moaned, “I want to…I need to, Inquisitor.”

“Come inside me.” She panted breathlessly. “Claim me, make me yours.”

“Yes, Shani” He uttered, increasing his pace. “I want to take you, I want to fuck you, I’m fucking you…”

“Yes, yes! You’re fucking me, Cullen!”

Cullen moaned as he came inside her. He stayed on top of her for a moment before easing himself from her and lying by her side.

They didn’t say anything as they both lay catching their breath. It was late, and neither felt much like talking.

After a time, Shani turned over onto her side and Cullen held her as they both drifted into sleep.


	2. Whatever the Cost

It was warm in the bath and the only light was that of the candles that glowed at the edges of the water. She closed her eyes, breathing in the steam that carried a sweet scent, rose oil. She leant back against Solas, feeling her body relax into him. She turned around in his lap, smiling at him. She began stroking his face gently before kissing him slowly and tasting the warm wetness of him. She felt his hardness between her thighs and guided him inside her. They were still for a moment, before they could bear it no longer. Her hips moved back and forth as she rode him.

“Dalen…vhenan”, he gasped.

“Ma lath, Solas”.

“More, Shani, please”, he begged.

In his ecstasy, he bit her shoulder, marking her and eliciting a delicious moan from between her lips.

“Harder, my love…”

She rode him faster, as he sank his in teeth, drawing blood.

He howled when he came inside her. Blood ran down her breast in rivulets and mingled with the water. He panted, trying to catch his breath. They were in the woods now and it was snowing. She buried her face in his fur for warmth. He scented the smell of himself on her body with canine approval. As he licked her wound, he tasted heavy copper and the tingle of magic upon his tongue. A hunting horn sounded somewhere in the forest.

“I’m a Halla, you know”, she said to him.

He smiled, baring his teeth. “Perhaps that’s why you taste so good”.

“Not for much longer”, she said absentmindedly, looking out into the trees.

The horn rang out again. It was getting closer.

She appeared behind him now. “Do you hear that? They’re going to hunt you down” she said.

He reached for her, but she was already beginning to fade before his eyes.

“My lord?”

Another man’s face swam into focus. He recognized him after a moment. It was Aaron, his steward. He was awake now, and she was lost to him once more.

“My lord, I am sorry to wake you but Lady Briala is here and you said I was to inform you immediately when she returned”.

“Yes, thank you. Tell her that I will come when I have dressed”.

“Very good, my lord”.

The man left the tent hurriedly.

The grey light of dawn was breaking over the mountains, but it was still dark and there was a chill in the air. Solas lit the candles in the tent with a wave of his hand and pulled a fur around himself to cover his nakedness.

He looked at the girl lying next to him in his bed. She was snoring lightly as she slept. She had long, ginger hair and freckles that dappled her pale skin. She was lovely and had been eager to please, but she wasn’t anything more to him than that. Sometimes he took girls to bed as a distraction, but these affairs never lasted long. 

Without disturbing her, he rose and began to dress. No more did he wear the garb of a lowly apostate, now he wore the armour of a general. Once more he found himself leading an army. He had never wanted to be in this position again, everything he'd done had been to prevent this. At least, that's what he told himself.

We are at war afterall, he thought as he strapped on his golden breastplate. And with it comes fear and a desire for simplicity. I must be as a hero, a saviour come to lead the people to Elvhenan. I must become Fen’harel once more.

Do you hear yourself? said a small voice in his head. Do you know who you sound like?

No. I am not like the others. The Evanuris were mad with power, they cared nothing for the lives of the people.

Shani’s face swam before him, looking at him with sadness and disapproval.

How can you be sure?

Because I must be sure. For their sake.

He pushed the thoughts and voices away. Briala would see his weakness, if he let her. He must be on his guard at all times in her presence. The spymaster was highly perceptive, and skilled in the art of manipulation. How else could she maintain a network that rivalled his own? She was an ally, true, but not loyal to him and so she could not be fully trusted. She was nobody’s agent but her own; her goals just so happened to align with his.

When he was dressed, Solas glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked how they expected him to look. Whether he liked or disliked what he saw reflected was of no importance.

He left the tent and set out to find Briala. Her tent wasn’t far, but when he arrived, he saw that it was empty. He sensed that she was somewhere just outside the camp beyond the protective wards he had set up. Of course, she would have be aware of that, even though she had no magic of her own. She was testing him, but it was also likely that she wanted to talk to him somewhere she viewed as neutral ground. Somewhere she could talk to him as her equal.

He smelt wood smoke and cooking, and the scent of cold dew still clinging to the grass. There were already plenty of people about, fetching water from the river and bringing wood for the fires. Many a baby could be heard crying before being put to its mother’s breast. Fragments of ancient Elvhen speech were carried to his ears as the Dalish sang prayers for the new day, the sound intermingling with the chatter of city elves. Many spoke Orlesian to one another, to the annoyance of the Fereldans and Free Marchers who feared that they were being gossiped about. As he passed them, the morning sunlight made his gold armour shine, and they fell silent and lowered their gaze. Part of him wished that he could pass unnoticed, that they would keep talking among themselves.

Many of his agents approached him with reports, but he waved them off. He would meet with them later.

Briala was waiting for him in the darkness beneath the trees.

“Fen’harel” She said curtly in greeting.

“Briala”

“Late to rise again today?”

“No later than most”

“Didn’t get much sleep perhaps?”

So the girl was one of her spies, Solas thought. Briala is reminding me how closely she is watching.

“I slept fine. Thank you for asking”.

She smirked, “As you say”.

He kept his expression impassive. “To business then? What do your agents report?”

“The Inquisition continues to ask the Magisters for aid in the fight against us. Right now Tevinter is more concerned with the Qunari, and they have little support. But that could change in time if we do not act”.

“As expected,” Solas said. “It will be hard for them to find allies in Tevinter, even with Dorian Pavus’ influence in the Magisterium. I will take appropriate measures.”

“And what will your ‘appropriate measures’ entail, I wonder?”, Briala asked.

“I will inform you of them when I deem it necessary.”

“You are as tight-lipped as always, it seems. That’s wise, but I must know of any plans that concern my agents”.

“You will, I assure you.”

“There is also the matter of the artefacts. It seems that my agents located one in the Arlathan forest but it was damaged beyond repair, along with the remains of the temple. The other was acquired by my agent in Qarinus. However, I have not heard from that agent since the Qunari invasion and I suspect that they have disappeared.”

“That is…a great disappointment to me. But it can’t be helped. I will send an agent to Qarinus to investigate. I expect a detailed report of your findings in Arlathan as soon as possible.”

“Understood.”

“If that is all, I will leave. There is much that I need to attend to.”

As he turned to go, Briala called him back.

“Solas. Tell me, when you locate one will you use it immediately or will you wait until more of our kind join us? It is for our people that you do this, is it not?”

He hesitated before replying. “I will use it when I see fit. Only one of the Evanuris could hope to wield its power”.

“So, I am right in thinking that you will leave the rest to die.”

He sighed. “We have discussed this Briala; I cannot save all of our people. That is the sacrifice we must make to restore the world”.

“And what of Shaneira Lavellan? Would you sacrifice her too?”

“Do not speak of her to me”, he said coldly.

“It seems I’ve touched a nerve." She held her hands up in reconciliatory gesture. “I don’t mean to question you...much. But I must confess that it’s because I feel something like hope for the first time in a long time. Hope for the people, and for myself. I want to make sure that it isn’t…misplaced. I must know where your limitations lie.”

“Concern yourself with your own. How do you think Empress Celene will react if she finds out about our alliance? Will she take you in her arms and tell you that she understands? Will she still allow you into her bed when she knows that you seek to betray her?”

“I take your point. My apologies”.

“Your hope is not misplaced, Briala. I will raise the people up to what they once were, and they will know themselves again. Sometimes the choices we make are terrible, but we must make them whatever the cost.”

“Then we are in agreement,” the spymaster said grimly.

From the shadows behind a tree, something stirred.

*

Cullen watched her as she slept. His Inquisitor.

He had drifted in and out of sleep, unused to sharing a bed with another. It had been a long time. It calmed him when he’d woken from a nightmare to feel her lying peacefully beside him. She’d taken a sleeping draught, and it was nearly impossible to wake someone from it before its effects had worn off. But it was almost dawn now, and she was whispering in her sleep. He kissed the shell of her ear softly, causing her to moan.

“Ma lath, Solas.”

He didn’t understand the words, but Maker, how he wished he hadn’t heard them.

He pulled away from her and got up out of bed. He didn’t want to stay there a moment longer. He had enjoyed being with her last night, but now he was wondering if perhaps it had all been a mistake. She’d been upset and overwhelmed after the party, but she’d said that she wanted him and led him up to her room. And she’d kissed him and told him to take off her dress, which he’d done eagerly.

And then they’d made love, Cullen thought. No, not love. He wasn’t the best at separating sex and love, but even he knew that it wasn’t that. She was beautiful, and he admired her strength as a leader, but he’d never really thought of her in a romantic way before. He’d never even thought that this might happen.

But it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

She only invited me into her bed because I was the one to find her alone in the garden, Cullen thought. And she still loves him, or at least still feels something for him. Otherwise she wouldn’t be dreaming about him.

It was better not to think about it too much. They would have time to discuss it later. He rose, dressed, and walked downstairs to the dining hall and ate with the soldiers.

Next, he went to oversee their drill before beginning his own training. He pushed himself harder than he normally would, but he wanted to clear his head. Besides, it was better to be battle-ready for when the moment came that he needed to fight.

But still, he couldn’t get the words out of his head.

“Ma Lath, Solas. Ma Lath, Solas, Ma Lath Solas”.

*

Shani woke up.

He was in my dreams again, she thought.

This was not good, it needed to stop. She couldn’t afford to still have feelings for him.

She noticed that Cullen had gone. Perhaps that was for the best, she thought. They had a council meeting later and they couldn’t exactly arrive together. They’d need to talk about what had happened at some point, though.

She got up, wrapping a robe around herself and put on her metal arm. She would need fingers for what she was about to do. From her chest of drawers, it she took out two pillar candles and set them on her desk. Then, taking a letter opener, she carved the symbol of a halla into one, and a wolf into the other. She began braiding a length of cord between the two wicks, focusing her energy into it as she did. The women of her clan had done this for centuries, regardless of whether or not they could summon lightning at their fingertips. There was always this magic. The quieter, subtler, kind that could be just as powerful. When the cord was braided, she tied it so that it connected the two wicks.

She was about to light the cord when she heard a knock at the door. She went to open it. One of her servants, the younger one, was there holding a tray of food.

“M’lady, I’m sorry to disturb, but it’s a ten o’clock and you instructed me to remind that you have a meeting with your council at half past the hour”.

“Yes of course, thank you. You may go”.

“Thank you, m’lady”.

She took the tray of food and the woman curtseyed and disappeared.

How could it be so late already? She was supposed to meet the others to review the events of the previous evening, and to discuss their next move. Hurriedly she brushed her hair out and put on long shirt, a waistcoat and some trousers. These southern clothes were too hot to wear outside at this time of day, but the building’s layers of cool stone kept out the worst of the heat. Besides, she needed to feel like herself after the pageantry of the previous evening.

Dorian, Josephine and Leliana were already seated around the table when she entered the war room. It had been an unused dining room until recently, which meant they had ample room to spread out their maps. She missed the war table they’d had at Skyhold though. A strange thing to be sentimental about, considering.

“Good night, Inquisitor?”, Leliana asked innocently.

Of course, she’d noticed.

“Can we not talk about it, please.”

Josephine looked from one to the other. “Am I missing something?”

“It’s not important,” said Shani.

“Tell me later”, Dorian whispered to her.

Sera came through the door, munching on a roll.

“Good morning. How were the Vints?”, she mumbled through a mouth full of bread.

“You should be glad you weren’t there”, Shani replied.

Sera swallowed, “It’s not like you gave me a choice. That bad, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

Josephine frowned. “Oh, come now. I thought the evening was a great success! A few Magisters seemed interested in our cause, including Magister Kastor who seems likely to give his support. Although, I imagine that he’ll ask for something in return.”

Sera snorted. “That git. I’ve heard things about him that you’re not going to like. Starts with Blood, ends with Magic.”

Shani sighed, “And here I was thinking he was one of the only people at that party that I didn’t completely detest.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not an uncommon practice in Tevinter, Inquisitor.” Dorian said. “I think you’ll find that if we reject every Magister who’s rumoured to have used blood magic, we’ll be left with precious few supporters.”

“They’re not rumours-” Sera protested but was cut off by Cullen’s arrival.

“Morning, sorry I’m late. I had to go and change after training with the men. It gets so hot here in Tevinter.”

“Hot indeed.” Leliana quipped, and Shani clenched her jaw.

She glanced at Cullen furtively and noticed that he was avoiding meeting her eyes. Not a good sign.

“Anyway, I think I have a good idea now which houses we should petition, and which we should likely avoid.” Josephine said. “I’ll make plans for us to visit them in the next few days.”

“That’s fine, thank you Josephine.” Shani said. “Commander, do you have anything to report?”

Cullen noted that she was addressing him by his formal title. Understandable, after the things they’d done last night. He swallowed uncertainty, “Umm…about what?”

The others stared at him.

“The mission in the Arlathan forest?”, Shani said slowly.

“Yes, of course! The mission. Right. I have had word from The Chargers that they’ve managed to locate the orb inside one of June’s shrines.”

“Ah yes, another Somnaborium. Much like the orb that gave you the anchor, Inquisitor” Dorian said.”

“Yes, indeed” Cullen said. “One of our mages was killed in the blast, but the mission was a success.”

“That’s unfortunate. Send word to the family if they have any, and make sure that they are compensated”, Shani said.

Sera rolled her eyes. Bullshit to think you could pay off the family, she thought. But this was the way they did things (stupid sometimes) and money was better than nothing.

“Besides that, we have more than enough soldiers and their training is going well. They are continuing to march through the streets in groups to make our presence felt in the city”.

“I think that if we have men to spare then we should send some to Qarinus, to show our support for Tevinter against the Qun. It will make the Magister’s more likely to trust us.” Shani said.

“That’s a good idea, Inquisitor.” Leliana said. “In fact, I’ve received intelligence from Qarinus that one of Fen’harel’s agents has been killed by the Qunari.” She rifled through the papers in front of her and handed one to the Inquisitor.

Shani examined the hastily written letter, which included a diagram of an arcane object that seemed to depict a woman and two men in torment. When she read the words ‘red lyrium’ she felt a familiar sinking sensation in her stomach.

“It seems that he had located, not an orb, but another ancient Elvhen artefact that could be used as a focal point for concentrating magic.”

Shani handed the paper to Dorian who stared at it with a concerned expression.

“Do the Qunari currently possess it?” he asked. “Because if they do, an artefact of this nature in the hands of the Qun could become extremely dangerous. If they were to use the raw magic of a Saarebas to charge it, they could do an untold amount of damage”.

“It’s dangerous regardless of who has it, Dorian,” said Shani. “But I agree. Given that they are currently holding the city under siege, they may attempt to use it as a weapon. “Leliana, you should instruct your agent to search for the artefact and determine its location. If it is possible to remove it they, should do so. If not, they are to report back and wait for further instructions.”

“Very good Inquisitor, I will send word.”

“Commander, prepare to send aid to Qarinus. However, you should instruct your Captains that the Qunari may possess a magical weapon of destruction, and that when they have taken the city their primary mission will be to locate it before Tevinter does. We can’t have it falling into the wrong hands.”

“I will begin preparations to leave for Qarinus, Inquisitor” said Cullen.

“Thank you, Commander.”

“Oh, Inquisitor. My friend and comrade Arianna Terras asked me to invite you to the Great Library this afternoon. I told her that you likely had prior engagements, but that I would ask.” said Dorian, lounging back in his chair.

“But I thought we were looking at the Jenny stuff?” Sera protested.

“You should go, Inquisitor.” said Josephine. “An alliance with the Terras family could prove to be a great advantage. I will clear the rest of your afternoon.”

“I will go. Sorry Sera, it will have to wait. Also, isn’t it a little strange to meet someone in a library?”

“It’s actually a popular place for young mages to meet.” said Dorian. “It shows that you’re serious about your magical studies. It’s a sort of boast, an ‘I know more than you, my magic’s better than your magic’, sort of thing.”

“So, she wants me to take her seriously?”

“That would be my guess, yes. Your reputation is pretty intimidating.”

“What else should I know about her?”

Dorian thought for a moment. “Well, she hates her family. But that’s understandable since her parents are trying to marry her off. She used to be shy, a little vacant. Lost in her books probably. Didn’t have many friends. But recently she’s been really keen to get involved with the Lucerni and our politics. Actually, i think it’s really helped her focus her magic. Before that her skill was a little…uneven”.

“Don’t forget that her family is extremely rich and well connected, Inquisitor”, added Josephine.

“Well yes, that’s a given.” said Dorian.

*

As they were leaving the meeting, Cullen caught her by the shoulder.

“Can we talk, alone?” he whispered.

“Yes”.

They walked down the corridor and out onto a balcony.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment, Cullen leaning on railing.

"Nice day. Hot. Lots of sun” Cullen said.

“It’s the same as it is every day.”

“Is it? I…hadn’t noticed.”

“Cullen” , Shani said.

“Sorry. I’m just…I don’t know how to start”.

“I’ll start. Things are awkward between us because we had sex together.”

“Yes, that’s pretty much covers it.”

“And you’re avoiding looking at me.”

“Sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing. Do you regret it?”

Cullen frowned. “Not exactly. It was good, I actually…really enjoyed myself.”

“I feel the same way. Although, I also think you’re about to say ‘but’.”

“But you were talking in your sleep, saying things. Things that made me think maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. But I can’t help what I dream about.”

“I suppose your right. But that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“I just don’t think that…you’re over him.”

“It’s been three years, Cullen.”

“That’s not an answer”.

Shani sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t have a better one. I try not to think about him, about any of it. I can’t afford to, especially now.”

Cullen turned away from her, leaning on the rail. “When I first stopped taking Lyrium, the nightmares were terrible. I was reliving everything I’d spent my life trying to avoid, to bury. When I accepted what happened to me, let myself feel again, talked to other people about the things I’d been through, the nightmares started to get a little better.”

She shook her head. “It’s not the same. You wanted the nightmares to stop. I know it’s fucked up, but there’s a part of me that _likes_ having these dreams. I just wish I could forget everything. Forget how I felt about him.” Shani realised that there were tears in her eyes and blinked them back.

Cullen looked at her, his eyes full of sympathy. “You can’t forget because it’s a part of you. It wouldn’t be right to forget.”

She hugged him then, and Cullen rubbed her back for a moment before releasing her.

She sighed. “So, where does this leave us?”

“I don’t think you’re ready for a relationship.”

“No. If I’m being honest, I’m not.”

“And I don’t think I’m very good at having casual sex with someone I care about.”

“So, friends?”

“Friends.”

*

Shani walked through the immense aisles of immaculately kept books. Their spines faced outward, revealing volumes of magic, history, lineages, law, heraldry, science, mathematics, all catalogued alphabetically and bound in rich leather. Only those of the Altus and Laetan classes were permitted to enter this sanctum of scholarship. Not for the first time, she wondered how she fit into this class stratification. Not easily, was the answer.

Among those studying here were circle magi, students from the university, academics, researchers and even clerics (although the chantry library had a better selection of texts pertaining to religious matters). The younger students sat crouched over their work at long wooden tables, whilst the older mages of more senior rank reclined in the few comfortable armchairs that the library reserved for those of high status. Even here in the hushed stillness broken only by the turning of a page, the occasional cough, or the distant echoing of footsteps, the arrangement of Tevinter’s social structure was evident. All seated, pouring over their books, without a single exception, were human. The only elves that she had seen skulked among the shelves carrying stacks of books that towered over their heads. They crept on silent feet among the shadows, occasionally appearing to take up the discarded books left behind on the tables and return them to their rightful place. She wondered at their presence here. Surely it would be considered dangerous to allow them so close those precious sources of knowledge? But then she realised that they were all illiterate. They couldn’t read, even if they dared crack open the cover of a book. That was the only way that they would be permitted to enter the library.

Next to the Inquisitor walked Arianna Terras, Altus class mage and member of the Lucerni. She was chatting to Shani, showing her the books and explaining how the cataloguing worked, with seemingly little regard for the other patrons who were shooting them looks that pierced like arrows. But the girl appeared oblivious to them, and they seemed to bounce right off her.

And Dorian said she used to be shy, mused Shani.

“What do you think Inquisitor?”

“What?”

“Should we take a look at the collection of rare magical tomes?”

“My apologies, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“No, of course you have, you don’t need to apologize!” She said quickly. “You’ve got so many responsibilities. So many people to who look to you for leadership. I imagine that it doesn’t leave you with a lot of time to yourself.”

“Not really, and I must admit I find it hard to understand these academic books.”

The girl laughed. “Honestly, I don’t think any of the Magister’s truly understand what they’re reading, but they all pretend in case us students catch on!”

“Don’t let them overhear you say that.”

“I don’t care about them, they’re just silly old men. Did you know my parents are trying to marry me off to that man over there?” She pointed at a short, fat man with a beard that brushed the table. “Magister Bertold Branticus”. “He’s older than my father, but even he won’t accept my family's offer.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t Dorian not tell you? I’m tainted.”

“Tainted?”

Arianna sighed. “I don’t like to talk about it, but I suppose you’ll hear about it eventually. And I’d rather you heard it from me than from some sneaky little bitch who’s just going to misrepresent me. The truth of it is that I didn’t used to have a lot of friends, and I was lonely most of the time. My parents never really paid much attention to me, except to tell me to study harder, to do better at magic. But then I met a man, Antonius Kastor. You know him?”

“We met last night.”

“Surprised to see an Elvhen Magister?”

“Yes, actually. It seems impossible”.

“It does, doesn’t it? That’s why Antonius is so infuriating to all the other Magisters. Anyway, he started paying attention to me, and I liked it. Liked him. One thing led to another, and we started sleeping together. It went on for a while before everyone found out.”

“And then what happened?”

Arianna grimaced. “It was bad. Really bad. The few people who I thought were my friends betrayed me. They said I was dirty, contaminated. Who’d want to marry me now that I’d had sex with an elf? No matter that most of the Magisters screw their Elvhen slaves. Hypocrites. So, I just thought, fuck it. Fuck all of you, I don’t care what you think of me.”

“That can’t have been easy.” Shani smiled sympathetically.

“Dorian helped. A lot actually”.

“He’s good like that.”

“Sorry, here I am complaining about my life when I’m supposed to be entertaining you. What do you say we go back to my apartments for a drink?”

“That sounds good actually, it’s pretty dry in here”

*

Arianna’s apartments were large but cluttered with objects that spoke more of her family’s prestige than her own personality. However, her character shone through in the abundance of candles, abolitionist pamphlets and strange crystalline artefacts that covered every surface. She’d even painted over the black stone with a series of scenes depicting mages transforming into hawks and chasing each other across the sky.

The girl kicked her shoes off and disappeared into a back room. She came back, padding across the stone on bare feet carrying two goblets of wine. She handed one to Shani, who took it and sat on the chaise lounge.

“I hate all this tradition.” Arianna said, gesturing to the room in general. “It’s so stifling. I’d die if I thought this was going to be my whole life.”

Shani smiled at the girl’s impatience. “I used to think that too. I was so restless, I wanted to get away from my family, to see the world on my own terms. That’s the real reason I ended up at the conclave.”

“So, am I right in thinking that you weren’t born, ‘The Herald of Andraste’?”

Shani laughed. “Definitely not! I was one of ten children. I wasn’t raised to believe that I was special, or different to any of my siblings.”

“No ancient magical lineage?”

Shani thought about it for a moment, sipping her wine. It was rich and thick with spices which seemed to expand on her tongue.

“Not that I know of. There was hardly any magic in my family, and most of what I learnt was from other clans.”

“That must be nice. To grow up like that I mean, with no pressure put on your magical abilities.”

“I suppose. It’s just different, growing up Dalish. It’s not like being a circle mage. The only way I could disappoint my parents was by failing to honour our customs or the gods.”

“And did you? Honour the gods?”

Shani felt a little lightheaded. Perhaps it was the wine.

“As much as any child, I suppose. But then you grow up and things happen that make you question what you’ve been taught to believe.”

“I know what you mean.” Arianna stood and meandered over to the wall where hung a portrait of the Black Divine with his eyes crossed out. “I never had much patience with religion.”

Shani laughed. “Yes, I can see that.”

Arianna smiled bitterly. “I used to love going to the Chantry for rituals. The incense, the chanting, feeling the air grow thick with magic. But then I started to realise that it wasn’t the presence of the Maker I was feeling, it was just an illusion created by the clerics. I don’t even believe that there is a maker, I think it’s all a lie created to keep the Chantry in power.”

“That’s a bold statement, Arianna.”

The girl shrugged. “Sometimes your life turns out to be a very different thing than what you expected it to be.”

Shani took another sip of her wine. “I never thought I’d be fighting against one of my gods”.

Arianna frowned. “I’d heard rumours about Fen’harel…but I thought that was just a title given to him by his followers?”

“It _is_ a title. But that’s not the whole truth. He’s so much more than that.” She stood up, unsure of what she was doing but certain that she needed to emphasise the point. “That’s why we need all the help that we can get to fight him. Nothing else matters.”

“Well, Dorian’s sure that he’s a threat and that’s good enough for me. You don’t need to convince me, Inquisitor. You have my support.”

“I…thank you. That means a lot.”

“Another drink?”

“Yes, why not.”

She filled their goblets, and they both took a sip.

“Reputation, religion, family. I feel like we’ve only discussed the heavy stuff. The things that nice young ladies aren’t supposed to talk about with their guests”

“Well, from what I gather neither of us are exactly ‘nice young ladies’. I’m not even young anymore”.

“Really? You can’t be that much older than me. Unless…do you take youth potions?”

Shani laughed. “No. I suppose I’m not that old. It just feels like I am sometimes. Most of the time, actually.”

Why am I saying this? Shani thought. This girl is practically a stranger, but I feel like she knows me. Like I could tell her anything.

“But anyway. What do girls talk about? I know. Do you have a lover? Someone special that you care about?”

“No, definitely not. Not anymore.”

“Do tell.”

“No, really. I can’t.”

“You already know my story”

“Yes, but…well, there was someone. But not anymore”.

“Fen’harel?”

“Yes.” She admitted. “I suppose all of Tevinter knows, and they’re laughing behind my back.”

Arianna looked thoughtful. “They’re not laughing at you, not exactly. You’re the head of a powerful organisation, but you’re still a woman. And an elf. And they love to gossip”.

Shani raised her goblet, tasting the sweet spices that filled her mouth.

“So, what was he like?” the girl asked.

“He was… a lot of things. Brilliant, quick witted, passionate, brave. But he could also be condescending, secretive and cold. He manipulated me into falling in love with him.”

Do I believe that? Shani wondered. Yes, it was better to believe that than to consider the alternative. It made things easier.

Arianna stared at her with interest, as if waiting for her to continue. When the Inquisitor didn’t, she said, “Things with men are always complicated, regardless if they’re Magisters or Elvhen gods.”

Shani raised her goblet “To men and their…complications”

The girl laughed, “I’ll drink to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> This fic is in progress, so please let me know if you have any comments/things you'd like to see!  
> I will take all feedback into consideration and include suggestions if I feel that they fit with the plot.
> 
> I'm going to be updating this one regularly, so if you want to follow the story it's probably worth book marking :)
> 
> Love,
> 
> MotherLilith
> 
> xxx


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